I am not from the magical land of Tir Na Nog

I've always wanted to be a little more Irish than I am. While it is in my heritage, muddled in the family tree somewhere, I'm more British and Greek than I am Irish. But because of my red hair and pale skin, people have often assumed that I'm full-blown Irish. Today in the company kitchen, a co-worker said "You're Irish, right? Is this a big day for your family?" The real answer is "Only a little" and "Not at all," but I told Mr. Co-worker "Yes" and "Not really, I'm more Greek than I am Irish." He thought that was fascinating, that I am Greek.

I've always been interested in people's ethnic backgrounds. When I was a wee lass, my mom pointed out that pale redheads are often of Irish background, so from then on, I asked anybody with red hair if they were Irish. The answer was usually yes. But my mom also pointed out that I wasn't evenly split between Greek and Irish, as I'd thought. The truth was that my dad's mom was Scots-Irish, my dad's dad was all Greek, and my mom's parents were both of British descent. So my Irish background came from Scottish ancestors anyway.

But I still wished I were mostly Irish. I practiced an accent in my room, wondered if maybe I could fake it. I felt like an imposter celebrating St. Patrick's Day, because I'm not Irish-American. I gave envious sidelong glances to Irish classmates, people with last names like O'Connor and Coyle.

Somewhere along the line I got over it, though I still kind of wish, just a little, that I had an authentic reason to celebrate St. Patrick's holiday.

Someone else at work just asked me if today is a big celebration for me. Man, I'm really glad I refrained from wearing my green knickers and magic shamrock hat. Boy, if I had, my co-workers would probably wait expectantly for me to break into Gaelic while I toss out gold coins.

Alright. I'm gonna go celebrate my sort-of-Irish heritage by going out for sushi.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!